


Becoming Whole

by mortenavida



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Missing Scene, Not Beta Read, POV Second Person, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-04 10:30:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1775866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mortenavida/pseuds/mortenavida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>When he shows up on your doorstep, your eyes immediately go to where his left arm should be.  You figure that you can get used to the metal that is now has become, but then you notice that there's nothing there but an empty jacket sleeve - he'll tell you later that he can't stand the memories that came with the cold steel.  You don't expect that, but you step aside anyway to let him in.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Becoming Whole

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small thing I wrote while bored at work.

When he shows up on your doorstep, your eyes immediately go to where his left arm should be. You figure that you can get used to the metal that is now has become, but then you notice that there's nothing there but an empty jacket sleeve - he'll tell you later that he can't stand the memories that came with the cold steel. You don't expect that, but you step aside anyway to let him in.

It's been over seven decades for the rest of the world, but you would never forget that face, no matter the expression it wears. That face brought you out of more back alleyways than you really care to count. There had always been a smile, an arm around your shoulders, and a quick word about bleeding too much.

You remember those times fondly because, for you, they were just about five years ago. For him, with all the times that he's been awake throughout the years, you're sure it's been maybe ten.

When he finally tells you the amount of times he was awake, and the duration of each, you realize that it totals just over three months longer than when you were in ice - not including the few you've been awake now. You feel ill, the need to remove the contents of your stomach is strong, but you hold on.

You hold on because he is looking at you with sad eyes that you've never seen on him. Eyes that shouldn't be on him. You just want to pull him close and never let go, but you know better because as much as you knew him, you don't know him.

Instead, you lead him to the kitchen and sit him down. You tell him all about how you defeated the Red Skull for him. About how you went down because, without him, there was really no damned point. You tell him all about the botched attempt to wake you up and bring you into the world. There's a smile on his face at that, but only if you look hard enough. The small twitch of his lip is enough and you tell him about Fury and how you weren't even awake two weeks before he had you fighting aliens in New York.

You put as many memories in it as you can. "I knocked one right into the alley where that comic store was," you tell him. "He hit a rack of space comics, and I thought you'd like the irony in that."

He nods, and you count that as a victory.

At night, when the lights are off and you can't sleep, the door to your room creeks open. You want to reach for a weapon on instinct, but you know that if it is who you think it is, he wouldn't react well to it. So you stay still, you wait, and then you smile when the bed dips.

"I was thinking of getting a dog," you say softly, letting him settle next to you on the bed. He doesn't touch you, but he stays close. "Something big and dumb. What do you think?" There is no answer, but you don't expect one.

Two days later, you find him looking through the internet at pictures of dogs. You tell him that you're going to run an errand you leave, all but running to the nearest shelter. You bypass the jumpers and the barkers and pick out a quiet one that seems to get trampled on by the others. She's perfect and her grin when you pet her says everything.

You pull some strings because you name still gets you places and you take her home that day. You say nothing as you open the door and she bounds inside, going straight to him. He looks surprised for a moment before petting her head and you know that this was the right decision. The two bond almost immediately and, from that moment on, you can't even separate them.

The next morning, you find a collar on her with a tag that reads "Peggy." He doesn't understand the significance, but you thank him anyway and initiate a hug. He accepts it and you want to break down because your best friend is coming back. You know you'll take him no matter how he is, but you know you would miss the affection if he didn't have it anymore.

They both sleep in your bed now and you feel almost complete. There has been no incidents since Peggy arrived and you are happy. 

And then the nightmares start. For you. They hadn't come around in a while, but this one is particularly vicious. You cry out, pushing at the constrictions around you. Something holds you down and you snarl as you try to push it off. It holds and you struggled further.

Then there's a sharp pain on your ankle and the thing holding you down has a voice. Your eyes jerk open and your breathing is heavy, but the face in front of you is familiar. You stare at another for a long time before he drops his forehead onto yours and you're sharing the same air. Even after all these years, all the trials and missing limbs, he can still hold you down and comfort you when your mind gets too dark.

"Nightmare," he says, and it's the first word you really remember him saying since he came back. You don't even care that Peggy is licking at the blood on your ankle where she bit you - you're glad she did because it had helped pull you out.

You aren't thinking properly still when you wrap your arms around him, but he doesn't seem to mind. He all but melts into your embrace and the two of you stay like that until the sun rises. You stay like that until your stomach growls and then you sigh, knowing that the day has to start and after you get out of this bed he won't let you touch him again.

You stomach growls again and you rub his back gently before getting up. You're surprised when he follows you to the kitchen, and then when he uses his remaining arm to wrap around your waist. Your fingers idly drift across the back of his hand and you want to cry at the ease that he does this.

He doesn't stop touching you all day and you soak in as much of the feeling as you can because you aren't sure when he'll stop. And that night, when you both climb into bed, he slides his arm around you and rests his head against the pillow.

Tomorrow, when you wake up, you vow to give a call to Tony Stark to see what can be done about the missing arm. Not metal, but something more flesh-like. You know you'll take him any way you can, but you want him whole and the arm, perhaps, is the first step.

He is asleep, so you sneak a kiss to his head and close your eyes.


End file.
